


Rest Of Our Lives

by viiemzee



Category: True Love (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family Feels, Fluff, Marriage, Same-Sex Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:05:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viiemzee/pseuds/viiemzee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based after the ending of True Love. Karen and Holly live their life together, forming their own family eventually. Just a copious amount of fluff, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We'll Sneak Out (While They Sleep)

_We’ll sneak out while they sleep and sail off in the night_ _  
_We’ll come clean and start over the rest of our lives_   
_When we’re gone we’ll stay gone_   
_Out of sight, out of mind_   
_It’s not too late_   
_We have the rest of our lives_ _   
  
**Satellite - Rise Against**

* * *

 

A month after Holly grabbed her bag and walked out of the classroom, with Karen tagging along after her, Karen finished her GCSEs.

It was two days after that that she appeared at Holly’s apartment door, most of her belongings cramped into two, very tiny suitcases. Except for the books. Those all belonged in three large boxes that she had placed at her feet. She had simply smiled at Holly and stepped over the boxes, right into the arms of the other woman, kissing her gently as she tangled their hands together.

A few hours later, after a quick shower for Holly and Karen packing up all her things for her, they were on a late bus to the train station, everything they owned carefully stowed away into the bags they carried with them. They had no real plan of action, all they knew was that they wanted somewhere quiet, near the sea.

Karen suggested Brighton. Holly showed her agreement by kissing her on the forehead while giving a large smile, the likes of which hadn’t graced her face in a while.

* * *

 

Their house in Brighton was on rent, but it was cheap and it was home. Holly got a job teaching evening classes to foreign students over the age of eighteen, who gave her infinitely more respect than the morons she used to teach in Kent. Karen started painting more, eventually even sitting on the beach with her equipment for all to see, the canvas and paints surrounding her in neat circles as she captures moment after moment. Sometimes people would take pictures of her, sometimes they would ask her if she was selling. Whenever they did, she would maybe give them something of hers. She wanted to earn some money too, after all.

In the evening, when Karen had returned home with her latest creation and Holly was cooking whatever concoction she had managed to come up with that day, they would sit on the small loveseat in their just as small living room, Karen resting her head on Holly’s chest, Holly’s left arm wrapped around her protectively while the right thumbed through her book of the week. Karen loved watching her read; it was enchanting all on its own, how Holly’s mouth formed the words silently, how her eyes glinted brighter with each page, how she gave little sounds of appreciation or disgust when the characters did something.

Sometimes, Karen would read with her, giving her input on the plot, the characters, the writing style, and Holly would smile and nod, or frown slightly and give a click of her tongue, showing her disagreement. That was the only thing they ever really disagreed on, the books they read.

And when the food was ready, they’d stand near the window in the kitchen and savor the taste of their freedom, the fact that they were living together.

And after they were done, Karen would plop the dishes in the sink and kiss her girlfriend, her lover, and the next thing she knew they’d be on their shared bed, the whispered confessions ringing through the air over and over again, just like they did every night.

It was October 2012 and they were happy.

* * *

 

“Morning.”

“Good morning,” Holly laughed at Karen as she dragged herself into the room, her eyes puffy and her hair all over the place, one hand scratching behind her ear lazily as she grabbed a bowl from the counter and the milk from the fridge.

“You came home late last night,” Holly remarked, flipping the page on the morning newspaper, looking up to see the other woman’s reaction. It had been a year since they had moved here, and for most of that time they had stayed to themselves. But then Holly started talking to the other teachers at the night school, Karen started speaking to the teenagers that lived around the area. And the previous night, Karen had come home on time as usual, only to rush to the bedroom, dig out one of her nicest shirts, and kiss Holly goodbye, telling her that she had been invited to a night out. Not one to stifle others, Holly had simply waved her off (but not without stealing a kiss and a quick grab of her lover’s perfectly sculpted behind before she did).

“Colin and James wanted to go mini golfing.”

“I thought the golf course was closed in the evening,” Holly mumbled, but Karen merely shrugged.

“Not Fridays.”

She grabbed her bowl of cereal and shuffled over to Holly, sitting down on the loveseat and curling her legs up to fit them neatly underneath her as she started to munch at the chocolate squares drowned in milk, and Holly (as always) just slung an arm around her and kissed her forehead, hugging her closer.

“So did anything interesting happen while I was away last night?”

“Not really, no,” Holly shrugged, the hand in contact with Karen now running up and down her bare arms, the pads of her fingers leaving light indents as they passed over pale, freckled skin. “But we did get a letter this morning.”

“Oh? Who from?”

“My mother.”

“Ouch.”

“Not really, it’s quite a nice one, even if she told me that she’s rather angry we haven’t visited in a year.”

“You think anything’s changed back there?”

Holly paused, her mouth slightly open as she thought on how to answer the question, closing the book abruptly and placing it down on the coffee table to her right, then turning to look down at the girl she had so shamelessly fallen in love with.

“No, I don’t think it has.”

* * *

 

They briefly entertained the idea of going back to Kent for a few days, just to say hello to Holly’s mother and maybe visit Karen’s father. But eventually, they let the idea go. They needed all the money they could get on their new life in Brighton, and Karen wasn’t too keen on running into anybody she knew there.

Holly understood. She didn’t want to meet anybody she knew from there either. It would be painfully awkward, and she knew that the looks would probably grow stronger and colder when they found out that the two women were actually sharing an apartment and a bed.

Kent was just another part of their life they wanted to let go of.

* * *

 

It was three months after they got the letter from Holly’s mother that they went to the used-car salesman, intending on finally getting one for Holly herself. They found a blue Fiat Fiesta that Karen immediately fell in love with, and they took it out for a test run immediately, driving around the coast and yelling from outside the windows as they rushed on the highway. They bought the car immediately.

* * *

 

“I got another letter.”

“Oh?” Karen laughed as she chased a stray cornflake in laps around her bowl of cereal, determined to catch it with her spoon. “Your mother again?”

“Yes, this time asking us nicely to go up for the weekend.”

“We have the car, we can afford to pay for the fuel.”

“Are you suggesting we go and see my mother?”

Karen shrugged and put the bowl in the sink, giving up her chase of the elusive cereal flake. “Why not? We could go for a day, just say hello, have coffee, come back here in time to go catch a movie at the Revival Theater.”

“What are they playing there this week?”

“Casa Blanca.”

“I’d love to go see that,” Holly smiled gently as she walked up behind Karen and wrapped her arms around her, resting her head on the younger girl’s shoulders, bringing her lips down to bare skin and kissing softly. “It’s a classic.”

“You’re avoiding the topic,” Karen sighed, giving her own smile as she felt her lover’s lips touch her skin again, unconsciously melting into her touch. “What about your mother?”

“We’ll think about that later, alright?”

Karen shrugged and wriggled out of Holly’s hold, turning around to give her a quick peck before grabbing her bag of supplies and moving to the beach. Holly merely sank into a kitchen chair, looking down at the letter from her mother on the table, and biting her bottom lip.

Karen’s plan did seem like fun.

* * *

 

The visit went well, and any worries that it might be awkward didn’t stick too long to Holly’s mind. As soon as they stepped out of the car, Holly’s mother came rushing up to them, and hugged Karen first. She kissed her on both cheeks and directed her to the door, telling her to make herself at home.

They stayed at the house for a good five hours, talking and explaining to the older woman how things were in Brighton. She seemed to be still getting used to the idea of her daughter being in love with a much younger woman, but she didn’t question her. She thought that her daughter was old enough, and definitely smart enough, to do the right thing for her.

* * *

 

Six months later, and Holly was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, Karen and her were ready.

She had been entertaining the thought for months, ever since her mother had grabbed her hand that day they had visited and looked down on it, as if she expected a ring to be placed in plain sight. She had frowned slightly before turning to her daughter and saying ‘You haven’t popped the question yet?’.

Holly had thought it was too soon. But now, lying in bed with Karen, the younger girl asleep against her body, her breath coming out in barely audible whistles, her beautiful features lighted up in the small sliver of moonlight coming in from the window, she couldn’t help but feel that maybe her mother had a point.

She thought about it, mulled it over, for months, trying to think of the perfect way to do it. The right ring, the right time, the right words. No amount of reading romance novels, classical romantic tragedies with happy middles, could ever prepare her for this.

How do you go about telling the woman you love that you want to spend the rest of your life with her?

It wasn’t until that horrible storm in November that she finally got the courage to do anything about it.

* * *

 

“Excuse me? Excuse me?! Yes, yes, hello. Yes, please, I’m here for Karen Davids.”

“Are you family.”

“No, she’s my roommate. Her family’s in Kent.”

The nurse gave her a look before sighing and looking down at the computer screen in front of her. “Down this corridor, first one on the left. You can wait there for now.”

She rushed with almost inhuman speed through those immaculately clean hospital corridors, past pacing, worried faces and crying relatives, until she finally reached her destination. She rushed up to a doctor, the first one she saw, and repeated what she had said to the nurse.

He smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, and she immediately calmed at the contact of another person. He lowered his head slightly to look at her (she had never realized how small she was compared to other people sometimes…) and said, “Are you Holly?

“Y-yes.”

“She’s been asking for you.”

“She’s awake?!”

“Yes, barely. She’ll be fine, a few scratches and bruises, maybe a broken rib or two, but she’ll be on her feet again in no time, no lasting damage at all!”

Breathing out a heavy sigh of relief, Holly hung her head and put a hand on her mouth, almost afraid to break down in front of this man, but he had stepped back and left her to her own space, shouting behind his shoulder that Karen was in room 24. She leant against a wall, closing her eyes as she felt tears suddenly start to surface, and gulped back a sob before composing herself and rushing to room 24.

There were two nurses, one cleaning blood off of Karen’s face with a small sponge, the other arranging the mattress at a satisfactory angle for the young woman as she lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. As soon as the first nurse moved away from her, clicking her tongue as she did, Karen weakly reached out to her, hissing in pain as she did, and whispered out one word.

“Holly.”

“She’ll be here soon, love,” the second nurse told her in what she probably assumed was a reassuring sound, but Karen merely slumped back into her pillows, closing her eyes against the searing pain all over her body. Holly stepped through the room and smiled at the nurses, patting down unruly hair as she did.

“Hi. I’m Holly, her roommate.”

The two nurses snuck a quick glance at each other before hurriedly moving out of the room, telling her that she had thirty minutes. Nodding, Holly closed the door behind them, making sure the blind was left down, and sat down on the plastic chair at Karen’s side, reaching out to brush her fingers against her lover’s bruised skin.

“Karen?”

“You’re here,” she smiled, her fingers reaching for Holly’s hand and squeezing as best as she could. “I knew you’d come.”

“What happened?”

“Driver didn’t see where he was going in the rain, swerved onto the pavement and into me,” she hissed, what looked like her good hand pressing against her ribs as she tried to move.

“No, no no, don’t stress yourself,” Holly scolded gently, getting up and reaching her arms around Karen, helping her sit up better. As she did, she lowered her lips to Karen’s, stealing a kiss. She felt Karen’s body tense beneath her, she felt her try to move her hands to get to Holly’s body, but she pulled away, giving her a quick kiss on her nose before sitting back down.

“You scared me, Karen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you ever leave me, do you hear me?”

“Holly…”

“No, I mean it. As soon as I got that call from the hospital, the first thing I thought was that I was going to lose you. I can’t stand that feeling, at all. I just can’t. I don’t want to. Losing you is not something I would ever do willingly, and if we have fifty, twenty or even just two more years together I want them to last.”

“Holly, I won’t leave you, I promise.”

“Marry me.”

Karen smile froze on her face, her eyes slowly growing wider as the statement registered in her mind, the absolute certainty of the tone in which she said it, the determination in her eyes.

“You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

* * *

 

A year later, and the small little scars on Karen’s face where she had needed stitches looked like any other freckle that graced her cheeks. The paintings around the house were growing considerably, and Holly had politely asked her to start selling some of them on the streets again. Karen had obliged. There were way too many paintings in the house.

Their evenings were still the same as when they had first moved here, with one slight difference: Karen had bought a guitar. She’d sit herself on the floor near the loveseat, and strum away at the strings, the small silver band on her hand glinting in the light as she did. It wasn’t the first time Holly watched her play, and admired the ring on her hand, the symbol of their love and promise to each other.

She would sometimes ruffle Karen’s hair when she was deep in concentration, enjoying the look of mild frustration Karen would get as she looked up at her, murmuring something about losing her focus and how tricky that particular hammer note was. Holly would smile and mouth a sorry, and she would be instantly forgiven, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do it again.

And on slow days like these, with the wind battering the rain at the window and rattling the panes, with the trees outside bending full force, Holly would close the book she was reading and just stare at Karen, just absorbing her.

“What are you looking at?” Karen joked this time, looking back up at her, eyes boring into eyes. “Like what you see?”

“Very much, actually,” Holly answered, putting a hand on Karen’s check and cupping it, her thumb stroking the flesh beneath it. “I’m so glad we got out of Kent together.”

Karen laughed, putting the guitar down and reaching up on her knees, leveling herself with Holly and bumping their noses together. “I’m just as glad.”

“I love you.”

“I do too.”

Holly closed the gap between them, kissing lips she had become so familiar with, and smiled into it, feeling every fiber of her being call out to the young woman before her.  

 _And to think_ , she thought as the kiss broke, and their eyes went back to focusing on each other, their foreheads touching and their noses bumping against each other,  _to think that this all started with a simple trip to an art exhibit._

She didn’t regret it one bit.

 


	2. She Reminds Me of the Danse Russe

_There’s a tiny dancer in my bed_ _  
_And she never has too much to say_   
_She reminds me of the Danse Russe_   
_When my emotions are wounded_   
_Her motions and movements chase the ghosts from me_ _

**Danse Russe – Hurt**

* * *

 

They got married in a very small chapel in the middle of Brighton, alone with nobody but Holly’s close family and a few of Karen’s friends to take part in the ceremony. They spent the day in a hall they rented after the ceremony, eating and laughing and drinking as they held hands and stood in their almost-matching white dresses, Holly’s flowing down to the ground in a traditional style, and Karen’s stopping just below the knee, a more modern style.

Karen never once let Holly’s hand go. She clutched it for dear life sometimes, most times just merely tangling their fingers together lightly, just enough to let the older woman know that she was there.

The marriage wasn’t religious at all, merely civil, enough for them to be acknowledged by the law and state. Or whatever.

They ate until they couldn’t eat anymore, and drank until Holly noticed that Karen was laughing at too many jokes that weren’t even that funny. And as soon as everything was over and they had changed out of their dresses and into more comfortable clothes (jeans, Converse and woolly jumper for Karen; skirt, sensible heels and cotton shirt for Holly) they were off in a taxi to the airport, their luggage already packed in the trunk and their lives set ahead of them.

The year was 2017.

* * *

 

The summer of 2017 dawned on two women lying in a bed in Greece, the younger one resting her head on her older partner’s chest, their hands intertwined and on Holly’s stomach, their legs tangled together and the sun slowly creeping into their safe bubble.

“Holly?”

“Mm?”

“I want to stay like this forever.”

“I wish we could.”

“What’s wrong with forever?”

Holly laughed as she tangled her hand into Karen’s hair, raking through the knots and kissing her forehead lightly as she did. “I have work, you have those meetings you have to get to-”

 “But it’s our honeymoon! Can’t we just…forget about all this for now? And worry about that in a week when we have to get home?”

“That sounds good,” Holly agreed, lowering her face to brush her nose with Karen’s, their lips a breath away from each other. “We’ll just stay here for now.”

“Mmm…” Karen nodded, connecting their lips in a quick peck before looking right into Holly’s eyes and giving a sly wink. “Besides, I’m not done with you yet.”

* * *

 

Merely weeks later that they were back in their small apartment, back to correcting work by foreign students and finding places to hang up new paintings, back to spending evenings eating together and reading, back to spending every night in each other’s company until they were too tired and sleep was a welcome invitation.

Holly returned to work one day to find that she had been promoted to coordinator of English, and that meant she had infinitely more work to do. She immediately texted Karen, and when she arrived home that night, she found a candle-lit apartment that smelled of roses, and an open bottle of wine on the dining room table set next to two glasses. But no sign of Karen…

She walked slowly through the apartment, trying to find her wife, and finally found her in the kitchen, taking two rib eye steaks off the grill and placing them onto plates laden with vegetables and potatoes. She turned to the doorway and grinned at Holly, gesturing to the plates lamely as she said ‘To celebrate’.

Holly had walked up to her, curled her arms around her waist and pulled her into a kiss, showing her appreciation at the thought, relishing in the fact that she had chosen the perfect person to spend her life with.

* * *

 

“That was brilliant, Karen,” Holly sighed as she let the fork fall from her hand onto the plate with a clang, locking eyes with her wife sitting before her, who had also finished her own food. “I should let you cook more often.”

“Oh, don’t be so hopeful! It took me ages to actually do all this, it’s hard work!”

“Now you appreciate the effort I take when I cook for you?” Holly joked, reaching a hand out and grabbing Karen’s hand, squeezing it slightly as she ran her thumb over the skin on Karen’s knuckles.

“Yes, I do,” Karen nodded once, putting her free hand on top of Holly’s and giving a small, content sigh. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

* * *

 

Holly becoming coordinator of English meant a better pay, and a better pay meant that they were searching for somewhere else to live. All the money Karen had saved up from selling paintings, all the money Holly put aside in her bank account, it was all put into account when they started to search for somewhere bigger, a place of their own and not an apartment, somewhere with two floors and a spare bedroom and maybe a tiny little garden where Holly could grow flowers and Karen could sit and sketch on nice days.

* * *

 

The day that Karen came home giddy, dressed in her nicest suit and her portfolio clutched to her chest, Holly knew that the meeting had gone well.

“So…?” she prompted, grinning and getting off the loveseat to greet her wife, who barreled into her and connected their lips in a happy, breathtaking kiss. Holly was surprise at the sudden passion, but didn’t push it away, rather she kissed back just as hard. Karen dropped her portfolio to the floor, and started to shed her jacket. Holly grabbed Karen’s face in her hands, pulling her away long enough to ask ‘How was it?’

Karen gave a laugh and kissed her again, quick and joyful pecks again and again.

“I got the art gallery!” she declared in between kisses, laughing as Holly grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up into the air, twirling her around until they fell onto the sofa, both laughing and pretty much out of breath.

“That’s fantastic!” Holly giggled uncontrollably as she watched Karen start to calm down, her chest heaving as she took in gulps of air, but the tint in her cheeks remaining. “That’s just fantastic, Karen!”

She turned to look at her, still panting from excitement, and grinned wildly. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Holly reached a hand out to Karen’s face and cupped it, tracing lines over the defined freckles, over the one single scar from that car accident way back when.

“I am so proud of you,” she told her, defiantly, before pressing another kiss to her lips.

* * *

 

It was two years later that Karen became a commonly known name in the art community, under her nom-de-plum ‘Fanfare’. She said it was easier if people knew her as that rather than by her full name, it avoided unnecessary complications she wanted to avoid.

She hosted art show after art show, each time with a different theme. ‘Sea’, ‘Love’, ‘Hurt’, ‘Life and Death’, ‘Lost’, ‘Nature’. She did it all. The first year of her art exhibits and selling paintings, she made enough money at auctions to be able to pitch in to buy the dream home she and Holly had always wanted, and soon they had moved into a house with a garden, a garage, a backyard, and two floors with bedrooms and two bathrooms.

The second year of exhibits and auctions, she was getting offers to travel all over the country with her work, setting up her pieces in halls and watching as people doted on them and asked her when the next auction would be.

It was times like those that she thanked god for Holly, who stood by her at every exhibit, and made sure she didn’t get too nervous to babble, and didn’t make too much of a fool of herself. Sometimes Holly would joke that she was married to Fanfare more than she was to Karen. Karen would laugh it off and kiss her lovingly, and Holly would smile and support her, because that was what lovers did.

* * *

 

“A wonderful painting, as usual,” one of her newest visitors to her exhibits remarked as he stood before a bright, vertically placed painting on the wall, standing right next to her. He handed her a champagne flute and she thanked him, sipping at it gingerly as she looked at the picture herself.

“I think it goes really well with the theme of Humanity,” he continued as his eyes travelled across the ridges and lines. Karen’s eyes joined his, and she marveled at the work her own hand had produced. The painting stood at a good three meters tall, and one meter wide. The background was a myriad of colours, little explosions of yellow and green and red and blue, and right on the foreground was the retreating back of a naked figure, holding a sheet to the front of her body.

“It is rather beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Did you use a model?” he asked, setting his empty champagne flute down on a passing waiter’s tray, turning his gaze to her, studying her face.

“No need,” she answered nonchalantly. She matched his gaze, giving him a cheeky smile to answer his questioning eyes. She suddenly waved to a person approaching from behind him, and he turned around, freezing when he saw the woman who was walking towards them, who slung her arm through Karen’s and gave her a quick peck.

“Well, we’ll be off,” Karen smiled at him. “It was nice meeting you."

“Yes, it was,” he mumbled as he watched them walk away, suddenly realizing what she had meant when she said she didn’t need a model.

* * *

 

“Karen?”

“Mmm?”

Holly brushed at Karen’s hair as they lay in bed, Karen’s eyes closed as she curled up to her wife, kissing lazily at Holly’s neck as she placed her head on Holly’s shoulder.

“Do you think the house feels empty?”

“What do you mean?” Karen asked sleepily as she started to kiss at Holly’s jaw instead, nibbling slightly at the skin there, getting a small gasp from Holly in response.

“Karen, seriously, listen to me,” Holly said, grabbing Karen’s shoulders and pushing her off her gently, looking her right in the eyes. “This is important.”

Detecting the change in Holly’s tone, she frowned slightly as she supported herself on her elbows, staring right back into Holly’s eyes. “What is it?”

“Do you think we’re ready for another person in the house? Financially, emotionally, mentally?”

Karen froze for a while, blinking as her mind reeled and registered what Holly was insinuating.

“You’re serious?”

“Do you think we could raise a child, Karen?”

* * *

 

They spent two months trying to decide if they wanted to adopt or get a sperm donor. Karen was all for adopting, but Holly was concerned that if they did just that, the child might not look like either of them. She wanted the child they were to raise to at least have a resemblance to them. Karen assured her that there would be at least one child that would at least have her freckles, or Holly’s smile, or Karen’s nose or Holly’s eyes.

Eventually, they decided on adopting.

* * *

 

“Mums! Wake up!”

Karen groaned as she rolled over in bed to look at her teenage daughter, tapping her foot and staring at them with exasperated looks.

“Jillian!” Karen almost screamed at her as she realized that she was naked in bed, grabbing the sheets to make sure that they had covered the majority of her body. “Knock, please!”

“I did. Five times. Besides it’s not like I’ve never seen worse. Remember that time I was nine?”

Karen rubbed at a throbbing spot in her temple, shaking her wife awake with her free hand. Holly snorted once before rising up quickly, covering herself with the covers and blinking groggily at their daughter.

“What is it, Jillian?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“And?” Karen asked, lying back down in the bed and closing her eyes. “What’s so important about today?”

Jillian brought her arms up, showing them her fencing foil and uniform wrapped in one hand, and a first aid kit in the other. “It’s the National Championships today and I have to be there in an hour!”

The two women shared a look before Karen groaned out a low ‘Shit…’ and turned to look at their daughter again.

“We’ll be right there, honey.”

She nodded once, curtly, before strutting out of the room and closing the door behind her, red hair flying behind her.

“How did we pick such an athletic, non artistic creature to be our daughter, huh?” Karen laughed, rolling out of bed and walking to Holly’s side of the room where the wardrobe lay. Holly rolled over onto her side, staring at Karen as she picked out their outfits for the day, setting them down neatly on a chair nearby. She raked her eyes over the slim, beautiful figure of her wife and smiled at her as Karen turned to look at her.

“Come here you,” Holly prompted in a whisper, and Karen moved towards her. She sat up in bed and curled her arms around Karen’s waist, welcoming the kiss that Karen delivered as soon as she was near enough, and the two toppled back onto the bed, a smile dancing over Holly’s lips as their kisses became more heated…

“Mums, stop making out now!”

Holly gave a short laugh before rolling out from underneath Karen and brushing her hair back with one hand, smiling at her wife’s disgruntled and disappointed face.

“Sometimes I think our daughter has psychic abilities.”

“Or maybe she just knows us really well…” Karen sighed, getting off the bed and moving to her clothes, getting ready to dress. But Holly grabbed her hand and pulled her back to her, kissing her once more, a soft and slow kiss that relaxed the both of them.

“I love you,” Holly murmured against her lips, and Karen nodded once, rubbing their noses together.

“I do too.”


	3. I'm A 'They' (With A Kid on the Way)

_I’m thirty-three for a moment_ _  
_Still the man, but you see I’m a they_   
_A kid on the way_   
_A family on my mind_ _

**100 Years – Five for Fighting**

* * *

Jillian was five months old when she was adopted by Karen and Holly. A tiny baby with big blue eyes and the tufts of red hair showing all over her head.

Her first words, months later, was ‘birdie’, when Karen took her to the seaside while they waited for Holly to come back to meet them with some take away fish and chips. After Karen hurriedly retold the tale to Holly, the two stared at their daughter for a few seconds, waiting for her to speak again.

“Come on, honey,” Karen had coaxed, gently shaking the baby. “Tell us that word again, come on!”

Their daughter had looked up at the two of them, reached her hand out and happily shouted out ‘Momma!’, while grabbing a fistful of Karen’s hair. Karen had hugged her daughter to her while tears fell from her eyes as she leaned backwards into Holly, who kissed the top of her head and cried silently with her.

From that day on, Karen was always Momma, and Holly would be Mummy.

* * *

 

Jillian was five when she started to run around the house waving sticks.

At first, Holly was incredibly strict about it, and told her to only play with sticks in their yard and to wash her hands as soon as she was done. Karen would try to get her daughter to do more artistic things, like paint or read. But Jillian was lost in a world of her own with her pretend sword, fighting dragons and saving peasants from harm.

And then one day they were watching the Olympics, and the individual fencing got her.

“Mummy, what are they doing?”

“It’s called fencing, Jilly.”

“Do they get hurt?”

“No, that’s what the white suit is for! It’s padded so they don’t get hurt, honey.”

Jillian had stared at the screen with determination before finally turning to Holly and saying ‘Can I play too?’

* * *

 

When Jillian was nine, a boy about eleven years old came to live with them. His name was Nicolai, and he was from Romania. They told her he was her new big brother, and she had poked him with her wooden sword when he first approached her. He had frowned and crossed his arms, and stomped off. Later, Karen had sat Jillian down and told her to be nice to Nicolai.

“Just because he’s older than you,” Karen had said as she held her daughter by the shoulders, “doesn’t mean he’s stronger, OK? He’s seen a lot in his life, he needs people to be nice to him. He just wants a hug sometimes, OK?”

“OK!” and she had dropped her wooden sword and gone running off to find her new brother. She found him in his room, unpacking his clothes, and she lunged onto him, locking her arms around his waist like a limpet. He had looked down at her, puzzled, before slowly patting her head in a confused manner.

* * *

 

When Nicolai was thirteen and Jillian was eleven, a new baby sister walked into their life by the name of Faith. She was a brunette, and she was eight.

“This is your final baby sister, kids. Her name is Faith,” Holly had introduced the girl in her arms, smiling down at her and kissing her cheek as the little girl waved at them eagerly. “Faith, these are your big brother and sister.”

“Kids, be nice to her, OK? She’s your new sister, and remember what we say in this family?” Karen said as she pushed her two eldest children forward to meet their newest sibling, and the two looked at each other in side glances before answering in unison.

“Family is where you’re loved.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

“Mums, we’re going to school!” Nicolai called out as he popped his head into the kitchen, mop of black hair flying all over the place as he shook his head, grinning at them. Karen and Holly sat at the kitchen table, Holly reading her novel and Karen the morning newspaper, both sipping at giant mugs of tea. They looked up at their eldest son and Holly rushed towards him, grabbing three boxes off the counter.

“Your lunches!” she said, and Nicolai rolled his eyes as he took them in his hands. “The top one is yours, the middle one is Jillian’s because she doesn’t like green peppers in her rice salad, and the last one is Faith’s because-”

“Because Faith doesn’t like olives in her rice salad. Yeah, Mum, I got it,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, grabbing his leather jacket off the coat hanger to his left as he turned around, calling to his sisters. The two girls rushed out of their shared bedroom almost immediately, Jillian still with a brush in her hair as she ran it through her locks, Faith with a large blue streak across her cheek.

Holly grabbed Faith’s arm as she passed by, pulling her back to look at her. “Faith, what did we say about painting before school?” she asked, and Faith could almost hear the lecture in her tone.

“Not to do it?” she replied, giving a weak smile as Holly started to rub at her face with a tissue from the kitchen counter, and Karen laughed.

“Obviously we can see which child is more like me,” she said from behind the newspaper, winking at Faith as the girl gave her a look. “Blue suits you, Fee.”

“Thanks, Momma,” she giggled at her, wriggling out of Holly’s embrace and rushing off after her older siblings. Holly turned to give Karen a raised eyebrow, and Karen barked out a single laugh.

“Oh come on, she is so me when I was growing up!”

* * *

 

Jillian, Nicolai and Faith had grown up in a pretty relaxed lifestyle. They knew they were different for having two mothers, but they also knew that for some reason they had twice as much love in their family as other people did, or so it seemed. They rarely ever complained about their mothers, and always seemed happier than all the other people at school. They all got good grades, and they were the children of a famous painter, which got them some sort of reputation. With Nicolai’s acting skills, Jillian’s fencing prowess and Faith’s apparent talent with a brush, they all seemed destined for some pretty great things.

They were raised with good morals and values, being taught from a young age to respect their teachers, that love is love no matter what, to never resort to violence unless absolutely necessary, to do what makes them happy, to be there for other people, to believe in themselves. They were taught to love each other and to protect each other, and to always have a smile on their face. They were happy and they were very aware.

But that didn’t stop the hurtful comments from reaching their ears every once in a while.

It was no secret at all that they had two mothers rather than the ‘normal’ mother and father relationship. In fact, every student at the school knew. Some of the teachers did, and they were pretty sure that the headmaster didn’t know at all, but the students all did.

It was also common knowledge that Jillian, at the age of sixteen, was going out with a girl.

* * *

 

Jillian had met Noelle at a fencing competition, where they had been pitted against each other in the semi-finals. Noelle was from the same town, and even went to the same school as her, but her sports instructor was apparently a rival to Jillian’s. The two had ended the match in a draw, which meant they had to battle once again to decide a winner.

Just as they were leaving the arena of sorts, Noelle forfeited the match, giving Jillian the chance to advance to the National Championships Finals. The two had gone to their separate changing rooms, and just as they were walking through the parking lot, Jillian had run up to Noelle, asking her why she had done it.

Noelle had merely looked her up and down once before shrugging. “You look like you want it more than I do.”

Jillian had stared at her as Noelle slowly brushed her hand against Jillian’s before walking away.

Weeks later, after the National Championships, the two bumped into each other again. Jillian found out that Noelle was gay, and she herself started to realize that Noelle was rather beautiful, and that she wouldn’t mind dating her. Their meetings happened again, and again, and again, until finally they went on a date, which also turned into another and another, until finally sneaking hand holds in the school corridors became sneaking pecks in the cafeteria, which turned into sneaking off to the bathroom to have some alone time.

It wasn’t long before Karen and Holly found out, and not too long after that the whole school decided to make their knowledge of the relationship known.

* * *

 

“I’ll see you after class?” Jillian grinned, leaning against her locker, watching Noelle remove books from her own. Noelle gave her a sideways glance before smiling back and slamming her locker shut.

“Definitely,” she answered, leaning forward to kiss her girlfriend, clutching at her face with both hands as she did. “Later.” She sauntered off, Jillian’s eyes slowly travelling from the back of the girl’s head down her back and to her girlfriend’s behind, raising one eyebrow in appreciation.

“Stop gawking and get to class,” Nicolai said from behind her as she walked by, ruffling her hair. The sixth form and secondary school had been merged together years ago, which meant that even though he was eighteen, Nicolai still went to the same school as his sisters did. She huffed, patting her hair back down.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she retorted, making to walk behind him, but a stray hand lashed out of the crowd and pushed her into the lockers, slamming her head back into the metal.

“Dyke.”

“Hey!” she heard Nicolai call after the boy that had shoved her, and she groaned as she slid down to the floor, cradling the back of her head in her hands, moaning as the pain exploded all over her skull. “That’s my sister, you douche!”

“So?” she heard her attacker answer nonchalantly, and suddenly she heard shouts and yells as the beginning of a fight started. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around her and she recognized Faith’s voice, the voice of a thirteen year old who was scared for her siblings, whisper to her that everything was going to be fine. She looked up over Faith’s shoulder in time to see her brother be punched down to the floor, and she gave a blood curdling scream as blood flowed from his nose.

* * *

 

“You three, sit here,” the headmaster said to them as the three siblings sat in plastic chairs, Nicolai with a tissue up to his nose, Jillian with a black eye slowly forming, and Faith with a split lip and a swollen cheek. The two girls had sprung into action as soon as they saw their brother fall to the floor, and now the three of them had landed themselves into very deep trouble.

The headmaster was talking to the assailants, who would get into more trouble than they did, surely. They did not tolerate bullying of any kind in the school, but they didn’t tolerate violence either.

“How long do you think we’ll be suspended for?”

“A week at the most?” Faith mumbled, wincing as the pain in her lip throbbed twice as badly.

“And Mums?” Jillian whispered, and the three of them looked at each other before their gazes fell to the floor.

“Yeah, they’re gonna be right pissed.”

* * *

 

Karen had dropped everything – including a pot of very expensive blue paint onto the table haphazardly, spilling some of the contents over the marble surface – when the school called, and Holly had immediately left the school where she now taught in her own car, storming the five blocks from her school to her children’s in a power jog. The two women met at the entrance and locked fingers as soon as they did, not even having to meet the other’s eye. They were worried, angry, and maybe slightly proud, but they were still mothers, and they had to take that stance.

Holly was the first to burst through the principal’s door, looking down at her three children seated on wooden, straight-backed chairs, their faces all thrown down to the floor.

“Jillian Paige, Nicolai Axel, Faith Sarah, you all have some very serious explaining to do,” she said through gritted teeth. Her wife entered behind her, clicking her tongue as she knelt down near each one of her children’s faces, looking at the marks all over them.

“Oh, look at your faces! Who did this to you?!” Karen said as she started to dote at them, touching their heads gently and pursing her lips, already feeling her tears well up in her eyes. She hated seeing anybody she loved hurt in any way.

“Excuse me,” the Headmaster spoke up, and all five turned to look at him, suddenly remember that he was there. “You two are…?”

“Their mothers,” Karen murmured in an undertone, and he raised his eyebrows when he heard her.

“OK…which one of you is their real mother?” he asked, pointing at Karen, then at Holly, then back at Karen. Offended, Holly strutted forward, placing her hands on his desk and leveling her face with his, glaring him right in the eyes.

“We both are. They’re all adopted, the three of them, and we raised them ourselves. So if you’re looking for their real mothers, I suggest you search in Romania, Bristol, and Russia.”

The headmaster clamped his jaw shut, gesturing stiffly to the other two chairs in the room, which Karen and Holly immediately sat on. He leaned forward and scrutinized the three teenagers before him with cold, grey eyes before turning back to look at their parents.

“The three of them were caught in a fight on school grounds.”

“Who were the other participants in the fight?” Holly promptly asked, crossing her arms  _and_  legs, setting her own jaw and shoulders, intimidating the man behind the desk. Karen looked at her wife, and smiled softly. She always let her take control in situations like these – she was no good with confrontation – and she was always so amazed at how well Holly dealt with them.

“Three boys.”

“And how did the fight start?” Holly asked, turning her face to her children, who looked up at her in unison. Her eyes quickly moved down to their hands, and she smiled when she realized that all three of them were holding hands.

“They saw me kissing Noelle,” Jillian murmured. Holly turned her eyes back to the principal, and cocked her head to the side, putting a hand out in a sort of ‘See this?’ manner.

“Jillian, did you tell Mr Hemsworth the full story?”

“Yes.”

“And it is?”

She looked up at the Headmaster, her grip tightening on her brother’s hand as she did. “I was minding my own business, I kissed my girlfriend goodbye, and these boys pushed me into the lockers and hurt my head. Nicolai saw them do it, he went to stick up for me, they punched him and started a fight. He got hurt, and me and Faith got into the fight too because we hated seeing him get pummeled.”

“And they’re in here because of that?” Karen almost shouted, her eyes wide as she stared at the man. “They did nothing wrong!”

“They answered with violence!”

“Which is a logical thing to do when you’re attacked!”

“Mrs and…uh…and Mrs Shortcross, your children have broken school rules by partaking in a violent act, and therefore discipline must be necessary. They will be suspended for four days, and can return to school next week, on Monday. I assure you, the other students have been handled and punished rightfully, with a three week suspension and a month’s detention.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Now, I think we’re done here.”

“Of course,” the two women said together, getting up and walking to the door, their children in pursuit.

* * *

 

“Faith, you have a broken tooth.”

“Momma, I’m fine.”

“And Jillian, you have a black eye!”

“It’ll heal!”

Karen tutted as she surveyed the damage on each of her children’s face, dabbing with an ice-cold napkin at the swollen parts. “You know,” she said, as Nicolai winced and jerked away from the napkin, “your mother doesn’t show it, but she’s very proud of you. And I am too. You stuck up for what you believe in and that is always so important.” She got up from her kneeling position by the sofa and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a pot and filling it with water for lunch. “I love you all.”

“Thanks, Momma,” they answered in unison, as they always did when she said that to them.

* * *

 

When Holly returned late that evening, after being held up at school at a meeting, she entered the living room to the sight of her three teenaged children, curled up on the sofa. Nicolai had both his arms slung around his sisters, who had their heads on his chest, and the three of them were fast asleep, with a blue blanket thrown over them.

Karen was in the kitchen, sipping at a glass of wine, and looked up at her wife with a small smile as she did.

“They fell asleep on the sofa.”

“I know. I thought we’d just leave them there for now, until they wake up and go to bed on their own.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel like carrying the three of them to bed.”

Karen giggled and drank the last of her wine, walking over to her wife and switching off the kitchen lights as she did, circling her arms around Holly’s neck and bringing their lips together.

“We raised them right.”

“We did.”

Karen gave a small purr of appreciation of Holly started to kiss at her neck, her hands tightening around her hips…

“We should get another addition to the family.”

Holly froze, removing herself from her wife and staring at her.

“What?”

Laughing, Karen shook her head and kissed her wife gently. “Not a kid. A dog.”

Holly rolled her eyes, grabbing her wife’s hand and pulling her with her to their bedroom. “That I can probably deal with.”


End file.
